


Pirated Nuts

by tehJai



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 15:34:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11831700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehJai/pseuds/tehJai
Summary: A small series of fills from the SWTOR Kink Meme, and some other drabbles.  All are explicit.





	1. Firsts

  
“It’s of little consequence,” Perkele said firmly, trying not to read too much into the absolutely baffled look that Andronikos was giving her.  
  
“Like hell it’s of little consequence,” he retorted, just as firmly.  “If you think for a second that I’m just going to have at while nothing happens for you –“  
  
She folded her arms across her chest and scowled slightly.  “It’s not like I haven’t done … this before.  It’s still going to be fun for me.  Just getting to look at you is enough of a treat.”  She waggled her eyebrows at him, trying her best to look appealing while she fought off the sinking sensation that this was all going to go very wrong, very fast.  
  
But all he did was smile.  "Look, Sith. You’re beautiful and sexy as hell. Someone like you shouldn’t be giving, she should be getting too, and that’s what I aim to do.“  
  
Perkele opened her mouth to quip right back at him, but he gently pried her arms apart, placed his finger on her lips and leaned in close, so that his next words were whispered right into her ear:  
  
“And I don’t miss.”  
  
Despite herself, despite the war in her mind between sheer desire and crippling misgivings, she reached forward and pulled him to her.  “You say it like that and I’m inclined to believe you,” she whispered, surprised at the depth and huskiness of her voice.  
  
“I’m a lot of things, but I’m no liar.” His hands gripped her waist, breaching what little distance remained between them.  “At least, not when it comes to this stuff.”  Before she could offer any more weak protests, before she could bolster her defenses, he brought his lips to hers.  
  
“I didn’t think you were,” she said, returning the kiss.  This wasn’t like what they’d had on the bridge; it wasn’t shy and inviting.  This time there was a marked, unrestrained passion behind it, burning sharply in the landscape that was her Force-vision.   
  
She reached, her hands resting on his shoulders, fingers trailing along the whipcord muscles of his neck while she moved herself atop him. She fought to find the words to encourage him – but he was so instinctive and capable that it seemed futile.   
  
He continued kissing her, an aroused chuckle leaving him when she finally flicked her hips against his waist, relishing the small flares of heat and sensation brought on by her movements. She gasped, and he grinned.   
  
“Is that what you want?” The voice. His voice. She never thought for a million years that, given his rugged good looks and obvious talent, it would be his damn voice that did it for her.   
  
“I want whatever you’ll give me,” she whispered, her eyes clenching shut while he reached beneath the long skirt of her robe (under which she wore nothing), folding the hem up and back, to stroke her bare thigh. She flicked her hips forward again, doing her best to press herself against him.   
  
For whatever reason, she couldn’t find it in herself to order Andronikos around.   
  
“Don’t worry, Sith.” He looked up at her and for a moment their eyes met; silence befell the lounge and the Force seemed to crackle with tension. “I plan to give you plenty.” His hand then ventured further, until finally his fingers were playing against her now-wet folds.   
  
It was in that moment that Perkele realized how woefully inexperienced she actually was. She had never had a man touch her like this; exploring, mapping, taking the time to understand her. Hell, she’d never even done it for herself.  It was an entirely new sensation, each pass of his fingers causing her to tense and draw in a hissing breath.  Her eyes fell shut again and she braced herself against his shoulders, willing herself to stay still.  
  
He moved torturously slow, his head tilted to one side as he watched her face, watched her tense and relax at intervals.  Her nails dug into his shoulders and he gasped quietly, the sound enough to make her eyes snap open.  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to –”  
  
The delightful ministrations stopped, and he put his fingers against her lips to silence her.  “Don’t apologize,” he whispered, his eyes widening when she seemed to become emboldened.  She gripped his hand and leaned close, sucking softly on the tips of the extremities.  She could taste herself there, clean and more familiar than she thought it’d be.  She kept going for a lot longer than she probably should have, dragging her lips up and down his first two fingers, and he just sat there and watched, his jaw a little slack, his breathing a little quicker.    
  
She finally let him go, guiding his hand to her labia again, and this time he worked a little more decisively, grinning a sly grin as he stroked at her clitoris.   
  
It sent a white-hot shock of pleasure straight down her spine, and the novelty of it had her crying out, clutching at the front of his shirt while her hips moved reflexively.  “What –”  
  
He didn’t let up, stroking at her until she could feel herself soaked and swollen.  She moaned sensuously, her Force-sight muddled and blurry with sheer carnal passion.  The sensation continued with each pass.  She’d never felt anything like this before.  She wasn’t even sure if people like her were allowed to feel this good.  
  
But she did. She felt alive.  
  
“It’s exactly what I said I was going to do,” he hissed, right into her ear, before he nipped at her lobe.  “Who the hell was stupid enough to not touch you, anyway?”  
  
Great.  Andronikos was conversational; she was incoherent.  All she could do was offer a weak shrug in response, opening and closing her mouth a few times while she tried to form words.  “Bed.” she finally managed to eke out.  “Take me to bed.”  It wasn’t an order; it came out more like a plea.  It was way too exposed out in the lounge (anyone could come by and she wasn’t certain she was ready for that) and her robes felt heavy and constricting.  
  
“Hm.”  He didn’t stop touching her – stars, she wasn’t sure if she ever wanted him to – rather, he cupped her chin with his other hand and stared into her eyes.  “And what do you want me to do to you once we’re there?”  
  
She stared right back, biting her lip, and leaned her forehead against his.  “I don’t know,” she all but sobbed.  She could feel an overwhelming attraction to him, and found that she had no idea how to express it.  “All I know is that I need to do something about this.”  
  
The retreat of his touch wasn’t immediate; rather, he slowed down to nothing before picking her up and striding purposefully to her quarters.  She could only feel the momentary absence of satisfaction and his enthusiastic determination to give her what she’d never experienced.  He sat her down upon the edge of the bed, locked the door, and set to work untying her robes, getting them away from her, leaving her fully exposed to his scrutiny.  
  
And then he sank to his knees in front of her, and she straightened up, wondering what in all the hells he was playing at.  “What you need,” he growled, a playful, passionate tone in his voice, “is this.”  
  
He spread her knees apart with his hands, situating himself between them, then his touch moved to creep up her body, his fingers tracing the generous curve of her hips, then up again to toy with her breasts, teasing her nipples until they were erect and she had goosebumps everywhere.  A sharp cry from her broke the relative silence of the room, and he laughed.  
  
“You are too sexy for your own good, you know that?”  
  
“I could say the same about you,” Perkele managed to eke out before his hands wandered back to where they’d started, except this time, in lieu of gentle, purposeful stroking, he slid a finger inside her still-wet depths, and set his tongue to her clitoris.  He licked at her, slowly at first, easing his finger in and out of her.  She didn’t hear his sound of appreciation; she was too busy rolling her hips against him, her own sounds of pleasure ringing in her ears.  She spread herself wider, resting her ankles on his shoulders and holding onto his hair, trying to keep steady, even though her legs were shaking and her spine felt like it was turning to gel.  
  
He drew back long enough to speak once more.  “Like that?” he inquired.  
  
She looked down at him over her heaving chest.  “Yes,” she said, breathless.  “Don’t stop.”  
  
“I won’t,” he said between licks, pistoning his finger faster, smiling against her when she cried out again.  “Not until you come.”  
  
And that set it off; a coil of tense pleasure beginning low inside of her.  She fell silent save for the moans that left her on each breath as he wound her higher, and higher –  
  
The world died away to nothing; she felt as though something had let go within her and she screamed, falling backwards onto the bed, trembling from her head to her toes, the climax tearing through her like a storm.  She was beyond self control, powerless to stop it, and he carried her up and over the wave, only retreating from her when her voice quieted and the shaking subsided.  
  
She stared up at the ceiling, blinking through the tears of relief she didn’t even know she’d shed, and she heard the clink of a belt, the rustling of fabric, and there he was beside her, propping his head with one arm and idly running a hand over her stomach and chest while her breathing returned to normal.  
  
Turning herself over, she let her eyes roam over his now-naked body; he was quite her type of man; tall, fit, and right now rock-hard.  She grinned, her fingers reaching down to play against his generous length.  “I’ve made an impression, I suppose?” she asked, wiggling backwards so that her legs weren’t dangling off the bed anymore.  
  
He glanced down at her hand on him and smirked, his free hand brushing across her cheek, wiping away the remnants of her tears.  “Yeah,” he said quietly, brushing her hand away and then sitting up, positioning himself between her thighs again.  His erection rubbed against her and she shivered, wondering how on earth she could want all of this again so soon.  “You have no idea how good you looked.”  
  
“Flatterer.”  Perkele arched her back as he teased her opening with his hardness, but stilled for a moment when she heard the sheer desire in his moan, and felt his lips on hers again.  He was poised over her, trying to kiss the life out of her, and it sent her desire shooting through the roof again.  Her arms went around him, palming his behind a little possessively, then moving to caress his back.  
  
He broke the kiss to speak, and his voice sounded momentarily awed, vulnerable.  “Do you still want to –”  
  
She reached down, took hold of him, and snapped her hips upright, so that he entered her fully.  He cried out, the heat and tightness of her almost overwhelming him, his hands grasping the blanket on either side of her head.  “Yes.”  
  
He didn’t move right away; he drew back and smiled down at her.  “Now can you tell me what you want me to do to you?”  
  
She gasped as he palmed one of her breasts, returning his smile.  “I want you to fuck me,” she breathed, watching the light in his eyes flare up and his raw determination bubble through the Force again.  
  
Compliance to her request was immediate and absolute; he paused only to trail his lips down the side of her neck before grabbing her hips and bringing them toward his, driving into her, setting a quick, firm pace.  She watched, mildly transfixed as he moved, his muscles flexing, body sliding against hers.  In the aftermath of what he’d done for her, this felt more intimate and more fulfilling than anything and anyone she’d ever had before.  
  
It was hypnotic, and maddening, and she felt drunk on the passion coursing through both of them.  
  
He echoed her sentiments not a few seconds later. “Shit, you’re good,” he growled into her ear before gathering her in his arms, pulling her up so that she straddled his lap.  He leaned down, flicking his tongue across her nipple, listening to her sigh.  From this angle he could bury himself deeper within her, and she let him do so, circling her hips lazily against him, grinning while he groaned.    
  
“As are you,” she murmured back, embracing him while they moved together.  He filled every part of her as he went, stimulating places inside her that she didn’t even realise she had.  Her hands trailed down the terrain of his muscles, eliciting the occasional shiver, making her feel like maybe she deserved to be together with him – maybe not forever, but at least for tonight.  
  
Before long he had his hands tangled in her hair and his hungry gaze was burning into hers as he muttered encouragements to her:  “I want to watch you come again,” he breathed, gripping her hips tightly as he fucked her to completion once more.    
  
It wasn’t as showy as the first, but she was still left gasping and trembling by its intensity, and she felt herself tighten around him; apparently that was all he needed, as it wasn’t long before he was moving his hips against hers sporadically.  
  
“Stars, you’re so tight,” he gasped, clearly on the edge of release.  “What should I –”  
  
She leaned back into the pillows again, letting him plow into her.  “Whatever you want,” she said, looking up into his eyes, aroused all over again by the dark, manic look she saw there, and then for a moment he looked to be in great pain.    
  
The sound that left him was primal, and she felt him release, deep inside of her, again and again until there was nothing left to give.  Shaken, he planted a kiss on her forehead and then rolled over to lay beside her, and there was a brief silence as both of them came back to reality.  
  
“Well,” Andronikos said wryly, still trying to catch his breath, “was that fun enough for you?”  
  
Perkele laughed as he threw an arm across her body.  “It was fun enough to make me want to bring you back here again.”


	2. Hot Chocolate

The best thing about datapads was that it wasn’t difficult to fake at doing work. Perkele sat at the head of her meeting room table in her sleepwear, knees folded up to her chest and her silvery-grey hair falling into her eyes as usual. She had a holographic readout of her latest artifact projecting in front of her, and her head was bowed down while she…  
  
…watched holonet videos of salkies belly-flopping gracefully into backyard pools.   
  
Despite the fact that Darth Val/Khem Zash (whatever they were) and Drellik were in the room opposite doing their own research and could probably hear her, she let out a high-pitched giggle that ended in an undignified snort. She laid the datapad in her lap and pressed the back of her hand against her mouth as she replayed the video - this time in slow-motion.    
  
She was still chuckling while she reached for her now-cold mug of caf.  Raising it to her lips, she almost spat the drink across the room when she heard a knock on the door jamb. It was only a moment of quick reflexes that kept the datapad from crashing to the ground when she spun around.  
  
“Hey, Sith.” Andronikos was leaning against the bulkhead, a good-natured smirk on his face. “You busy?”  
  
Perkele blew an errant strand of hair out of her face and shrugged. “I was doing –” she looked down at the datapad with the ever-repeating vid of Salkie Flop and smiled ruefully up at him, “– alright, pretending to do work. What do you need?”  
  
“Just wondering if you’ve had lunch yet.”  
  
“Uh.” She looked momentarily confused.  Oh, right. Lunch. She was supposed to be keeping up with that eating thrice daily routine. She’d managed alright at the Academy despite her deep-seated hatred of tuber vegetables; but old slave habits died hard. She’d worked in the kitchens, peeling whatever needed peeling and chopping whatever needed chopping. For most of her life she’d eaten twice a day: something small in the mornings, and then whatever was left over at the end of the day.    
  
At the Academy it was “eat your veggies or die”; it had given her quite the physique and she appreciated looking less like a ratty, androgynous stick than she once did (especially considering that it had piqued the interest of the man standing in front of her).  Though, now that her daily routine wasn’t being scrutinized, she just sometimes forgot.  "I haven’t,“ she said. "Did you have something in mind?”  
  
“Actually, yeah,” he said. “Last time I was out, I picked up a few things.  Figured I’d start trying to earn my keep around here.  Cook sometimes.  You know.”  
  
She arched an eyebrow.  "You hand me my artifacts, hog all my blankets at night and now you’re going to cook?  I should keep you around.“  
  
He laughed. "Your sheets are military-issued shit.  I’d itch all night if I didn’t jack the blanket.  So. What d'you say?”   
  
“I suppose I can tear myself away from the holonet vids to eat lunch with the local sexy pirate,” she said, making a big show out of appearing inconvenienced. “As long as there are no tubers.” She laid the datapad on the table and stood up, pausing for a moment to square herself in front of him. A ratty tank top and overlong pants made her look a lot less imposing than she normally did.   
  
“I’m not that cruel,” he said, taking a long, obvious look at her chest, smirking when she rolled her eyes. “I made a few guesses, but I think you’ll like this.” He offered her his hand, and when she took it, he pressed his lips to the back of it and chuckled at her. “C'mon.”  
  
–  
  
“That was,” she said, “the best meal I think I’ve ever had.” Perkele leaned back in the lounge chair, looking rather satisfied.  The meal had been well-balanced, full of meat and noodle and some wonderful white sauce. It was certainly more opulent than her usual fare.  "I never figured you for a chef, Andi.“  
  
"A guy’s gotta eat,” he replied, gathering the dishes up and passing them onto the droid.  "May as well learn to do it yourself.“  
  
"I’m almost sad that’s over.” She picked up her glass of Alderaanian wine (wine at midday, what a luxury!) and took another sip.   
  
“Not quite,” he said, sitting close beside her and presenting her with a square plastoid package. She peeled the top off of it and looked inside: uniform squares of something dark brown and sweet-smelling that she had never seen before. He laughed softly when she dealt him a confused look.  "You did live simply before all of this, didn’t you, Sith?“  
  
She rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the ribs. "Yes, I did.  Now what in the stars is this?”  
  
“…Seriously?  You’ve never had chocolate?” He reached into the box and pulled out a square, holding it up to her lips. “Well. Let’s add this to the list of new experiences I’ve given you, then.” His last sentence was dripping with flirtation, and Perkele gave him a sidelong glance before biting tentatively into the confection.   
  
She chewed, and Andronikos watched her intently, a knowing smirk on his face. “Oh.” was all she managed. The stuff was delicious; sweet, earthy, and it melted in her mouth. Without even thinking she plucked the remainder of the piece from his fingers and downed the whole thing in one bite.  She sighed between chews. “I… this is good.”  
  
He gave her another piece, and this time she couldn’t help her tiny moan of delight. This truly was wonderful stuff. She’d have to keep a supply of it on-board.  
  
He kept watching her as she savoured the chocolate, the breath catching in his throat the more vocal she became. “Figured you’d like it,” he said, voice huskier than normal.  He angled himself toward her, slowly encroaching on her personal space, but she didn’t protest (he’d have gotten a jolt of lightning to the face if she had).  Gently, he grazed his thumb across her cheek.  
  
Their eyes locked; her rich blue to his dark brown, and she smiled.  “You look like you want something else for dessert,” she said in that lazy I’m-trying-to-sound-haughty-and-Imperial drawl.  From the looks of things, it wasn’t helping.  
  
“Maybe,” he said, his thumb now stroking gently along her lower lip.  “You game?”  
  
“When am I not?”  
  
“Well, I can think of a time or tw –”  She cut him off by pushing him away, standing up, and grabbing his hand, hauling him bodily toward her quarters.  Chuckling affectionately, he followed her lead, making sure to take the box of chocolates with him.  
  
–  
  
He had no idea how she’d taken the package from him.  As far as he could tell, as they reached the door to their quarters it was in his hands, and the next it wasn’t. Perhaps she had pulled it from him using the Force, but more likely the woman was just being her usual distracting self. Damned Sith.  
  
But frankly, seeing what she was doing with it made all thoughts of backtracking the events slip right out of his mind. Did they have a class at the Academy to teach them how to be so damned seductive? The only thought he could muster as she grinned at him, a small square of chocolate poised on those sultry lips, was that she was fine. Damned fine.  
  
How the hell did a woman like her – a woman who’d never even come before she’d met him – know exactly what to do to make him want her so badly it hurt?  She hadn’t even touched him, not really, and he wondered for a moment if she could read him so easily through the Force.  
  
“You’re a tease,” Andronikos muttered as they drew level with the door to their quarters.  
  
She bit into the chocolate, chewed slowly, and licked her lips, still gazing at him.  “But you like it,” she said, her voice low enough, simply sexy enough, to make him harden without even touching him.  “Don’t you?”  
  
He stepped forward, his body just barely against hers, his hands on either side of her, braced against the closed door.  Leaning in, he whispered in her ear, “Only if you’re going to make good on it, Sith.”  
  
“Oh,” Perkele said, “I plan to.  But there’s no rule against, ah, playing with my food, is there?”  She hit the control panel such that the door slid open.  She moved away, but he anticipated this.  He made a great show of stumbling forward, then yanked the package out of her hand with a triumphant cry.  
  
The tension that had been building since they left the lounge finally boiled over: he pulled her close, tossing the box onto the bed, and hurriedly tugged at her shirt, intent on getting her naked as soon as possible.  She apparently had similar ideas, and they spent a few silent seconds tossing this or that article of clothing away into the corner of the room.  
  
When there was nothing between them but climate-controlled air he practically leapt toward her, running his fingers through her silver-grey hair.  He brought his lips to hers, relishing her quiet noise of pleasure.  He could taste the chocolate still on her breath, mingling with her usual scent of a hot rainy day and sheer woman and –  
  
He broke from her, leaving her flat-footed near the door, and scrambled atop the bed.  He fished out another piece of chocolate and laid it on his stomach, grinning over at her.  
  
“If you want it,” he said, watching intently as she crept closer, her generous hips swaying as she walked.  He couldn’t get enough of looking at her – so deadly, so fucking gorgeous and right now only his to look at, to worship, to please until they were both trembling wrecks –  
  
He was getting ahead of himself, but it only served to rouse him further until he was fully erect and ready for whatever she might want.  “If you want it,” Andronikos said again, “come and get it.”  
  
And then she was on him, her powerful thighs either side of his waist, leaning forward so that his hardness pressed against her stomach and her breasts trailed invitingly over his chest.  She leaned down and captured the candy in her mouth.  She moved further, drawing herself level with him, sliding along his lithe, muscular body, and pressed the sweet morsel against his lips.  
  
It melted in their mouths as they kissed, lips and tongue seeking and exploring with reckless abandon.  When mingled with her flavour and her feel, the chocolate suddenly became one of the best things he’d ever tasted.  
  
She flicked her hips against him and he moaned, a rivulet of melted chocolate falling from his lips, and she smiled – one of those rare, genuine things that lit up her eyes.  
  
“Now,” she said, smirking more as he grabbed her hips and rubbed himself against her, “there’s an idea.”  She licked his chin clean and fetched another piece, holding it in her fingers until it grew soft, and –  
  
Oh stars she was so fucking perfect, he thought briefly, watching as she spread a thin line of sweetness from her throat, down between her breasts and halfway to her navel.  He sat up, holding her steady in his lap, running his tongue along her body, groaning despite himself.  “Tastes almost as good as you,” he remarked, prying the softened candy from her hand and spreading what remained of it across her chest.  
  
His tongue stroked across her breasts, and he took the time to suck and nibble at her nipples, enjoying the way she gasped and writhed against him.  He licked at her pale skin, leaving hardly any trace of the chocolate behind.  He was nothing if not thorough.  
  
However, she still had a very sticky hand, and when she wormed her way out of his lap and wrapped her candy-covered fingers around his erection, he thought that he might just lose it right there.  He stared, captivated, as she coated his cock in melted chocolate and proceeded to clean it all off.  
  
With her tongue.  
  
He’d never asked her to do anything like this before – making such a request of a Sith seemed tantamount to suicide – but there she was, bent over him, her luscious rear end just a little bit in the air.  The spectacle was nearly overwhelming: the feel of her skin against his, the way her silver hair caught the light as she moved against him – all of it added up to something so wonderfully erotic that he could barely believe it was happening to him.  
  
He was one lucky pirate.  
  
“Shit,” was all he could manage, and he reached out and down to stroke her cheek affectionately.  Before long, her slow licks up and down his shaft led to teasing kisses against his head, and the look she dealt him, her blue eyes almost sparkling with mischief and passion – that look made him groan.  
  
She drew back, briefly, and he could have sworn he saw her blush a little before engulfing him with her mouth.  It was soft, and wet, and she went a little inexpertly at first, but he didn’t really care because this beautiful woman who could kill him just as easily as she could fuck him had his dick in her mouth and seemed to be enjoying it.  
  
Gasping, he moved his hips upward on reflex, watching her look up and smile before working him in earnest, wrapping both hands about him, manipulating his hardness while she sucked at him.  He framed her face with his hands, curling himself toward her, staring into her eyes and astounded at how good it all felt.  
  
Improvisation seemed to be something she was alright with; she tried things, she moved her tongue around, adjusted her tempo, watching him all the while.  She moved deeper, taking him as far as she could without choking, and soon his hands had moved and were gripping the sheet beneath them until his knuckles turned white –  
  
The thought of what it would be like to come in her mouth almost sent him over the edge, and as pleasant a fantasy as it was, it was most certainly not how he wanted this to end.  She deserved better than that.  “Stop.”  
  
He was surprised when she did, sliding him out of her mouth, a slightly victorious grin on her face.  She brought her hand to her lips and licked what remained of the melted candy from her fingers, still regarding him with hooded eyes, still bent over in front of him.  
  
“You taste fantastic,” Perkele murmured, wiping at the corners of her mouth.  Need coursed through his veins then, and he leaned down to capture her lips with his.  He didn’t consider himself a vain man, but as they both generously gave and greedily took from each other, he realised that she was right.  Or, perhaps he simply enjoyed the combination of his musk and her taste and chocolate, powerful and everywhere and intoxicating.  
  
She sat up, squaring herself in his lap, his still-slick erection pressed between their bodies.  She moved against it, and he heard her sharp intake of breath as he ran his hands along her thighs, up to her hips, where he grabbed and pulled, intent on bringing her closer.  
  
“You should do that more often,” he growled, a mischevious grin on his face.  His hands circled her hips, cupped her rear and he thought that if she didn’t do something soon, he’d risk electrocution and take the upper hand.  He still had no idea how she was able to make him want her this badly.  
  
Blue eyes sparkled again and she laughed, as though he’d spoken the sentiment aloud.  “And you shouldn’t stop me if you’re going to be so impatient,” she said, breathless, flicking her hips forward such that they both gasped with pleasure.  
  
“I just want to know if you’re going to fuck me, or if you’re going to just sit there and look pretty,” he replied, his rough voice pitching lower.   
  
“Is that what you want, then?”  She laid her hands on his chest, her fingernails digging slightly into his skin, and pushed him backwards, into the pillows.  It was forceful and sudden enough to cause him to let out an ‘oof’ of surprise.    
  
It was like Andronikos was watching it happen to someone else, the way she stretched tall, holding herself over his shaft, every muscle tense and ready.  He saw how wet she was, her skin sparkling in the light, and he couldn’t help but reach out and touch her, his fingers dancing along her folds.  She hissed with delight and grinned down at him.  
  
“Tell me it’s what you want,” she implored him.  She phrased it as a plea; orders never came from her, he knew, but she still enjoyed goading him on.  Enjoyed the way he growled and gripped her hips then, pushing up and inside of her.  She moaned, a quiet, restrained noise, letting her body fall atop him such that she was fully and completely impaled.  The sound and the feeling brought him back to the moment; this was not happening to someone else, he was the one inside of her.  
  
“This,” he said, bucking his hips once, gasping as she clenched around him with a satisfied grunt, wonderfully warm and inviting, “is what I want.”  He looked up at her and she was still smiling, her cheeks and chest flushed a deep red.  “It’s all yours, Sith,” he continued, “so take it.”  
  
She bit her lip and began to move, blindly reaching for another piece of the chocolate that he’d almost forgotten about.  The candy was pressed against his lips while she slid herself against him, grabbing hold of both his hands and pinning them above his head playfully.  His vision was filled with her blue eyes and heaving breasts; his mouth was filled with chocolate and her tongue; he was surrounded by the rest of her.  The movements were slow – long, deliberate rolls of her hips, her insides caressing him almost to the point where he slid out, only to be countered with a snap of her hips, hilting him completely – and they were punctuated with a delicious moan from her each and every time she did it.  
  
His thoughts were disjointed; all he wanted to do was feel and taste and look at her, but he had the sense to be mystified at how she could be fucking him nearly expertly and still think that she had to ask him, “Is it good?” as though they’d never been together before.  
  
He arched his back, he strained against her grip, and he managed to eke out a half-moaned “Yes.”    
  
Leaning closer, her ample breasts pressed against his chest, she let go of his hands and dealt him another one of those intense, passionate kisses that he was already half addicted to.  His arms went around her, his freed hands sliding down her back and gripping at her thighs, her hips, her rear – he sought to touch any part of her that he could when she was writhing against him like this.  
  
In fact, he found that he wanted more of this, wanted to make her scream for him; and so, when she paused her movements to smile down at him again, he wrapped his arms about her waist and flipped both of them over, so that he was kneeling between her parted thighs.  He re-entered her without saying a word, turning the tables, fetching a chocolate and offering it to her from his mouth, a sly grin on his face.  She took it, giggling slightly as she pried it from his teeth.  
  
He didn’t move right away, and her look of mirth turned rapidly to one of frustration.  Why she was so annoyed was easy to see: she was flushed all over, gleaming with exertion and he could feel the erratic pulse of her heartbeat, easily echoing his.  
  
“Now who’s a tease?” she moaned around a mouthful of candy.  
  
Turnabout was a glorious thing, he decided.  “You like it,” he answered her matter-of-factly.  
  
She stared at him, baffled, but he did not move until she was finished eating, and once she’d swallowed the last bit of sweetness he drove into her forcefully.  He wasn’t rough, and she returned every motion in kind, but he was decisive; bent over her luscious form, one hand tangled in her hair and the other exploring her body.  His fingers wandered down her throat, across her breasts and stomach, down until he reached the juncture between their bodies –  
  
The sight was absolutely glorious, and it spoke to him on the basest of levels: she was spread wide, and there was no resistance as he moved in and out of her.  He smiled inwardly, listening to her strained breathing and periodic moans, then pressed his thumb to her clitoris, stroking against her in time with his movements.  
  
Andronikos got what he wanted when he did that; she cried out, arching her back to take more of him in, and her eyes screwed shut, head turning to one side.  Her entire body trembled around him and she whispered his name over and over again – a litany that was as beautiful as the rest of her, as far as he was concerned, a sound sweeter than the chocolate that had started the whole thing off.  Watching a Sith – no, not just a Sith, watching her – fall to bits under him was better than just plain sex.  This went further than that; it was something he couldn’t define, wouldn’t ever give a name to, but it made him feel like he could do anything.  
  
Urgency overtook him then, and he slammed his hips forward again and again, driving himself into her as deep as he could comfortably go, intent on wringing every last second of climax that he could out of her before he lost control of himself. She reached, desperately pulling him to her, wrapping her legs around his waist.  Her fingers played against his face, turning it towards hers, and the moment she kissed him was the moment he broke; groaning helplessly into her mouth.  
  
When the stars cleared from his vision, he made to roll off of her, but she had him locked in place with those damned powerful legs of hers.  
  
“Don’t move,” Perkele said, and he rested his head on her chest, listening to the rhythm of her slowing heartbeat.  He lay there for a few long minutes with his eyes closed, sweaty and exhausted and satisfied, relishing the fact that he could still feel her twitch every so often with the aftershocks of her orgasm.  He felt vaguely victorious: as far as he was concerned, she’d had too few of them, so he was determined to assist with making each one she had with him as good as they could be.  
  
She shifted slightly, and he opened his eyes to look, and saw a square of chocolate resting beside his face.  Chuckling, he took it in hand and finally retreated from her, setting himself next to her before devouring the candy in one bite.  
  
“So,” he said conversationally as he put his arms around her shoulder and offered himself up as a pillow, “how d’you like chocolate?”  
  
She snuggled up to him, stifling a yawn.  “I think it’s rather good,” she said, deadpan.


	3. Sheets

She clutched the packet of silk linens in her hands, rubbing her thumbs over the exquisitely tied bow.  The small, hidden part of her that was still a slave, with the loudmouth defense mechanism because she knew she deserved nothing from anyone – that part of her sought to cry out in joy and relief.  It was a strange sensation, this feeling of mere humanity in the midst of all of her Force-given power, but for a brief moment, she dwelled upon it.   
  
And even now, she felt like this gesture was unwarranted. Oh, he’d attached a note full of bravado and his usual pretending-not-to-care, but he had gone and acquired a gift for her simply because he thought she’d like it.   
  
For her. No other reason. It wasn’t contingent on a promise of power or riches – he did it simply because.  It was disarming, and touching, and everything that she shouldn’t be concerning herself with.   
  
She sat on the foot of her (their) bed, allowed the tears to well up in her eyes until they threatened to spill, and clutched the packet to her chest.  Love was never part of the grand scheme, but it felt like a passionate, volatile defiance toward anyone who’d try to stop it. And it gave her more strength, more power than any relic or any teaching.   
  
“Hey.” His voice shook her out of her contemplation, and she felt the heat rise to her face.  How hypocritical to eschew sentiment, and then be caught mooning over a present.  But he didn’t look disgusted or bothered – rather there was a sincerely happy light in his eye, and she could sense his small swell of pride through the Force.   
  
“Hello,” she said, looking up at him while he sat beside her, placing the packet to the side, but still resting her fingers on it. “I was just –” She shrugged a little helplessly, her eyes traveling to his gift. “They’re very nice.”  
  
Calloused fingers brushed gently across her cheek, and he inched closer. “Pretty things for a pretty woman,” he said, that rough edge in his voice sending a shiver down her spine.   
  
“As you say,” she murmured, her eyes drifting shut as his thumb ghosted over the scars on her lips. “But thank you. Nobody’s done something like that for me before.”  
  
A warm chuckle was his reply, and soon his hand was over hers, running against the silk, trying desperately to untie the bow while they kissed. One would have expected her to be forceful, in command, and for him to submit to her authority, but there was no such thing happening.  The tenderness with which they approached each other belied their prowess on a battle-field: his hands framing her face, hers resting on his shoulders, and their lips and tongues moving together, softly and without greed.  
  
Eventually the package opened, and, without words, he moved to spread the silks out on the bed, sat back, and pulled her into his lap, nuzzling at her neck, nipping at her earlobes – and soon she was moaning softly with delight, her hands balling into fists against his chest.  Suddenly he was stripping both of them down as quickly as they had unwrapped his gift, and as far as she was concerned, there was nothing threatening at all in the world.  Nobody was trying to kill them; she wasn’t dying of sheer arrogance and putting herself in danger for a cure –  
  
All that existed was the two of them, quietly making love atop some very expensive textiles.   
  
“You know you’re worth it,” he said, rolling her onto her back, entering her with a slow, decisive motion. “You’re welcome. Sith.”


End file.
